


Hastur Died A Luna Wolf

by Sister of Silence (Orcbait)



Series: An Age of Heroes [6]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Foreshadowing, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcbait/pseuds/Sister%20of%20Silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hastur Sejanus, Captain of the 4th Company of Luna Wolves and a valued member of the Mournival of Primarch Horus lays slain on the marble-tiled throneroom of a far off planet. A planet of no name, no renown, no consequence; one like so many others that fell in compliance, one of billions. The first Astartes had fallen to treachery. He knew in the way He knew all things - in His mind, in His heart - that this was it, the moment He had dreaded. It had begun. How had it come to this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hastur Died A Luna Wolf

In hindsight, it was not unlike being stabbed. He had been deep in meditation, for it had been an eventful day. His mind had wandered the aether, travelled paths known and forgotten and refound once more. He had not been particularly going anywhere, just wandering, and it had been during this mental stroll that He suddenly, quite immediately, _froze._ A tug. Small. Sharp. Deep within His mind.

He looked about Him and saw what had happened in that very instant. Understood what wrong was done here; something He ultimately had caused. Somewhere in the mortal realm, a sigh might have left His mortal body despite His absense. He looked over the scene and stared at it. Engraved it into His memory. Every detail. Every blood drop. Every wrong. That crumpled form. A wingless angel clipped. It was a terrible loss, for nothing. For no reason. He stood for all but eternity, making Himself see what He had done. And then He turned, and never walked this mental path again.

He opened his eyes, but not in the sense of you and I. Those brown eyes opened and saw the omniverse. In all its horror. In all its glory. Grief was all that was now on His mind. A mental sigh left Him, and for miles around the palace, everyone wept for seemingly no reason. He rose. His knees ached. So did His back. He should not sit for this long any more. Why did everything hurt, suddenly? Why was there now only pain? He had to be strong. For humanity.

If He was not strong for those whom He saw as His children, many of whom He had never met but whose passing He felt and for whose loss He wept regardless, no one would. _How much longer? How much more? Will I bear this burden forever? I must. If I do not..._ Despair swept across Terra like the most terrible warp distortion.

He forced Himself to reign it in. _Feel not. Feel not. Strong. Humanity. One day. It will be done. And I will rest_. He stood now above the waterfall, and looked down upon the statues of His sons. Two had already been broken. How many more would fall? All. _No._ All. _Never._

His gaze wandered and where it fell, flowers wilted, stone crumbled and a gloom spread from nothingness, until it rested on that one small statue. Enormous, even compared to Him. But so small, so very small, in the shadows of His sons.

It was the Astartes. One who stood for all. It was pristine no longer, for from its chiselled cheeks rolled crimson tears staining the marble forever red. He kept His gaze upon it. The Astartes. A wingless angel had fallen for no reason today. Upon a floor. A visitor. A guest. A peace offer. Destroyed. _Unmade._

He still heard the music of his soul, slowly dwindling, always and only in a moment of death. It was so sweet, so tender. Humanity had lost its greatest good today.

He stood above the waterfall, His most beloved spot. He gazed out into the omniverse. Across His guardian sons, across their sisters. Across the Inner Sanctum. The Outer Circumvect. The Hives. Every shadowed corner. Every sunlit field. Across the entirety of Terra. Luna. Mars. The Sol System. Sector by sector everywhere until His gaze enveloped all. Softly, ever so softly, He gave the smallest tug. And humanity wept. For a loss they knew not what, but they felt why. And that was enough.

Somewhere, a bell tolled. Once. Twice. Three times. Only for His lost sons had it tolled thrice before.

The Astartes.

Already crystaline shatters of a broken dream. Still viable, still striking, still inspiring and true and _right._ But cracking. Slowly breaking. It's majestic wings moulting. It's radiant purity fading. As from His brown eyes slipped a single tear, He _knew._ He knew it had begun. He knew - in His mind, in His  _heart_ , in the center of the Omniverse:

The end was coming.

_Soon._

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it! If you decide to share my story, please credit and link back to me. Thank you!


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